


Symphony

by fits_in_frames



Category: Amadeus (1984)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-09
Updated: 2004-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-20 05:37:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1498663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fits_in_frames/pseuds/fits_in_frames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn't seem to notice that his jacket is askew and half the lacing on his trousers is undone as he rummages through the mess of papers on the table.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Symphony

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [](http://fiendling.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://fiendling.livejournal.com/)**fiendling** 's art (which is now friends-locked, unfortunately).

A single corner glows in the corner of the room, highlighting the face of the younger man hunched over it. He doesn't seem to notice that his jacket is askew and half the lacing on his trousers is undone as he rummages through the mess of papers on the table.

The older one, slightly dazed, finally lifts his head wearily from the bed. "Wolfgang?"

Into the relative darkness comes finger waving and a 'shhhh' as he scribbles furiously.

"Wolfi, come back."

"Patience! Patience." He scribbles some more, then places a final dot on the page. When he turns, he jumps back from the figure who seems to have magically appeared next to him. "I...I just wanted to write it down...be...before I forgot..." he whimpers as the man steps towards him and he steps backward accordingly, as if in some bizarre waltz.

"I thought you had it all up here," the advancer says, touching his companion's temple and gently caressing his hand as he takes the feather quill from it.

"Just...just to be sure--oh!" he cries as he tumbles over a chair onto his back. "Antonio... I..."

"What were you writing, that was so important?" He kneels between the outspread legs with the quill still in his hands.

"Just...a...a theme of sorts..." He does not resist when the hand not holding the quill reaches between his legs and a kiss is planted securely on his lips.

"It wouldn't happen to be a _love_ theme, would it?" He squeezes lightly at the word "love" and kisses again.

After a squeak, the response, "No, actually," comes in high-pitched voice that would rival the castrati. "Just a theme," he says in a normal tone.

"Oh. Perhaps you need more inspiration..." He begins to unlace the already-undone trousers.

"More, oh, I..." His words are swallowed up in another kiss as he removes his jacket and allows the hand on his trousers to drift. Breathing heavily, he attempts to speak. "Don't tell anyone..." Kiss. "...but you..." Another kiss. "...inspire me to do many..." And another. "...many things..."

The older man lifts his head for a moment. "I think after tonight, Wolfgang, you will have enough to write a symphony."

"I think so too, Anton..." His voice drifts off as he kicks his trousers to his ankles and arches his back.

The other throws the quill to the side and undoes his own trousers, smiling slyly as the wind blows the candle out.


End file.
